


Texts From The Avengers

by Princess_Aleera



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: #coulsonlives, All of the pairings, Blame the alcohol, Drabble Collection, Drunkenness, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, F/F, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Crack, Friendship, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Multi, Pre-Slash, all of the characters - Freeform, texts from the Avengers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:36:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 8,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess_Aleera/pseuds/Princess_Aleera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hangovers, shenanigans, flirting, and bromances - with and without the 'B'. Such are the lives of the Avengers.</p><p> </p><p>(A series of drabbles based on the Texts From The Avengers Tumblr.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tony & Rhodey

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Texts From The Avengers](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/31750) by Vardaesque. 



> If you haven't seen this tumblr yet, you definitely should. Each of these following drabbles depict little scenes in the lives of the Avengers - based on any of the TFTA pictures. Each drabble will be between 100-500 words, and I'll try to squeeze in as many different pairings as I can.
> 
> Want to help? Comment with a pairing or a prompt! Or both! I'll take any pairing as long as both characters are within the MCU universe. I update this every now and then, as I write, but each drabble is a stand-alone.

“I did a bad thing last night,” Tony grouses into his third cup of coffee. He's hunched protectively around it, his eyes red-rimmed the way they get after a Stark party.

“When do you _not_?” Rhodey asks, sniffing at his own concoction. With the Avengers living in Tony's tower, there are over twenty different tea types in the communal kitchen. Rhodey has yet to try them all, but considering how often he still needs to come over here and help Tony repair, Rhodey expects full knowledge of the tea cupboard sometime next week.

Tony peers at him. “Actually, scratch that. I did a good thing – a really, _really_ good thing-”

“No details,” Rhodey says and takes a sip of his tea, a strange blend of orange, vanilla and peppermint.

“- it was just with the completely wrong person, why do I keep doing these things, Rhodey?” Tony pouts at him.

Rhodey pats him on the back. Tony sighs and downs his cup, before flipping out his StarkPhone. The Tower is silent, the rest of the Avengers still gathering energy from the night before.

“Hey, Rhodey, is one thirty too early for the bar?” Tony says and fixes himself with a fourth cup. 

Rhodey rolls his eyes and puts down his own mug. The combination of sweet and pepperminty is a little too rich for him. “Do you want _my_ opinion, or society's?”

Tony waves him off with the 'psssh' noise that means he knows Rhodey's got a point. “I want your _company_ , Rhodes. Learn to read between the lines.”

Rhodey laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/61518397854)


	2. Tony/Thor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: I use the TFTA pictures as inpiration only, so sometimes I change the quotes, the characters, the pairings, or all of the above. I generally try to stay within the theme, though:)

“I am truly sorry, Man of Iron,” Thor says and crouches by him. His puppy-dog eyes rival Steve's, and Tony can't meet them without wanting to scratch the demi-god behind his ears. “Sometimes my powers, they...”

“It's fine,” he wheezes, letting Clint help him up from the mat. “Just happy you didn't fry my circuits. Right, J?”

“The damage to the suit is not irreversible, Sir,” JARVIS says dryly, although looking down at the suit, Tony does wonder. He wishes he'd had his helmet on. He's also not going to ask how Thor managed to summon a lightning bolt by accident _inside the Tower_. Tony's already had to Hulk-proof the entire thing – he's not sure how he can Thor-proof it. 

“My most humble apologies,” Thor tries again, while Clint snickers in the background.

Tony suppresses the urge to repulsor-blast Clint in the face, but only because the assassin keeps lurking in the vents and could make Tony's life a living hell. “Seriously, no apologies necessary,” he says and pats Thor on the arm, giving him the trademark Stark grin. “Just give me sex and Pop Tarts, and we'll call it even.”

Clint cackles from where he's hanging from the ceiling – though from what, Tony can't see – but Thor's face brightens.

“But of course!” he says and grasps Tony's suit by the shoulders, giving him a jovial shake that makes Tony's teeth rattle. “It would be my honour!”

Clint chokes and tumbles to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/61072468076)


	3. Phil & Steve (& Clint)

“Good morning!” Steve walks into the living room with a bounce in his steps that should be illegal this early in the morning. He doesn't salute Phil, but Clint can see that it's a near thing. Phil, of course, says nothing – only makes a smothered noise and half-waves at the captain.

“It's a fucking sight to behold,” Clint says, and Steve gives him a confused smile before disappearing into the kitchen. They can hear him puttering around in there, getting together a breakfast for the whole team.

“You are a disgrace to all agents, sir,” Clint says to Phil over the sound of _Bridezillas_ , but makes sure to keep his voice light and teasing. Phil, as unflappable as he usually is, even with a cane and his arm in a sling these days, still can't talk to Steve outside of missions without reverting to a fourteen-year old boy. It is adorable and Clint revels in it.

“Ugh,” Phil says instead of arguing, which means he agrees.

Clint puts his arm around Phil's shoulder, because Clint is one of few people who knows exactly when Phil Coulson needs a hug. From the kitchen, they hear Steve whistle a merry tune, and Phil groans a little. He doesn't quite hide his face against Clint's t-shirt, but it's a near thing.

“Oh, hey! I know what you should do,” Clint says and turns up the volume of the TV so Steve won't hear. The bride is already crying and shouting at everyone, and it's not even halfway into the show. “Steve loves those bakery sweet-sugar stuff, right?”

“Yes,” Phil says immediately, then flushes.

Clint rolls his eyes, but leans close enough to whisper. “Dude, seduce him with _cookies_. You almost turned me gay with scones – don't be surprised when they get you into bed with Captain America.”

Phil blinks, a thoughtful little frown on his face. “The marshmallow-cinnamon crumble, maybe?”

Clint makes a quiet sex noise because the crumble deserves that. Phil laughs quietly.

“Hey, guys!” Steve pokes his head out, a stripe of flour on his nose. “Breakfast's ready! Tell Bruce and Tony?” No one tells Natasha. Natasha magically appears whenever she wants to.

“Awesome, we're right there,” Clint says and gets up, glancing at Phil's face. He looks starstruck again, but it's subtle enough that Steve doesn't notice. “Oh, hey, Steve? You ever had marshmallow-cinnamon crumble?”

“No?” Steve says. “But it sure sounds interesting.”

“You should get Phil to show you how to make it,” Clint chirps, while Phil goes eerily quiet and still behind him. “He's an _awesome_ cook.”

Steve smiles brightly at them both, and Phil makes a sound behind Clint's back not unlike a rodent getting stepped on.

“You're fucking welcome,” Clint whispers, and Phil thunks his head lightly against Clint's back.

Steve just looks politely confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/67315378485)


	4. Steve & Rhodey (kind of?)

Bruce looks up from the petri dish when the quiet, soothing sounds of chalk against paper stop. Steve comes around here most days, like Tony, seemingly just to draw – or create, in Tony's case – and do some silent team bonding. Bruce likes it; Steve has the calming influence of Captain America without the military edge that makes the Other Guy twitchy, and Tony seems marginally less eager to blow himself up when Steve is around.

Now though, Steve looks down at his StarkPhone with a deep frown. Bruce knows most of Steve's frowns by now, and this is not his I Don't Understand This Century frown. Instead, it looks like his Not Sure How To React To This frown, which makes Bruce leave his desk.

“Steve? Is everything alright?”

“Hm?” Steve glances up, two spots of red appearing on his cheeks. “Oh, yes! Everything's dandy, I just-” and the frown reappears.

Bruce knows Tony loves to mock that frown – loves even more to be the cause of it – but he's currently out on one of his 'bro nights' with Colonel Rhodes. Bruce suppresses the urge to take a photo of Steve to show Tony later.

“I got a text from Colonel Rhodes,” Steve says finally, halting. He holds the phone so Bruce can't see the screen.

“Yes?”

“He's...” the red spots grow a little, making Steve look healthily flushed. “He's asking if he can send a dick pic.” He brushes his hand over his forehead, grimacing. “How do I, uh, politely decline that?”

Bruce almost reaches for his glasses in pure surprise before he realizes something and laughs. “I'm willing to bet that Tony has stolen the Colonel's phone, Steve. You don't have to reply to that at all.”

Steve, if possible, only looks frownier. “But shouldn't I let Rhodes know, if he doesn't know what Tony is doing?”

“Possibly?” Bruce shrugs. “Prank messages like these are pretty common, though.”

“Prank messages,” Steve says and peers down at the message again, one eyebrow arching. Then he grins and starts typing. “Thanks, Bruce, I know just what to write.”

Bruce blinks. “You're... welcome?” He waits until Steve finishes typing and goes back to his drawing board before he asks. “Care to share? You've got me curious.”

Steve smiles brightly. “I sent him a picture of Richard Nixon and said 'these are the only dick pics I send'.”

Bruce doubles over laughing, and wonders what would happen if Clint, Steve and Tony ever started a prank war with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pics: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/65345666356) &  
> [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/58174509177)


	5. Clint/Natasha/Thor

Clint looks uncharacteristically cheerful where he lies, on one of Medical's white benches. A nurse bustles around, but she seems amused rather than exasperated – like the medical personnel usually are when Clint is nearby. Natasha hovers in a corner, but looks relaxed.

“Coulson!” Clint says as soon as Phil steps inside the room, both arms flailing in a drunken wave. Phil notices that both his thumbs are splintered. Clint grins big enough that all his teeth show, and his pupils are slightly dilated. “Hi! Hi, Coulson!”

Phil frowns internally and steps close to the bed. “Care to explain why I find you here, Barton? As far as I'm aware, you did not have a mission tonight.” 

Clint giggles, and the sharp smell of vodka hits Phil's nostrils. “M' night can be summed up in _three_ words,” he says and shows Phil four fingers. He's a little cross-eyed, and he sways even though he's lying down.

Phil refrains from arching an eyebrow at Clint and Natasha, the latter whose eyes glitter with mirth.

“Vodka,” Clint says and wriggles one finger, “Threesomes,” and he over-enunciates the word so it can't be misunderstood, “Hospital.” He lets his hand fall to his side, eyes closing. He looks blissful, even with a cast on his foot and a bandage around his head.

Phil looks at Natasha, who gives him a doe-eyed look back. “Never tell me.”

She flutters her eyelashes at him. He rolls his eyes and leaves the room. "We're having pizza delivered to the emergency room, Clint," he hears her say.

"You are a beautiful, gorgeous, kind, sweet, wonderful, beautiful woman, Nat."

The door closes behind him.

“Son of Coul!” A hand lands on his back hard enough to knock the breath out of him, and Phil smiles politely at the demi-god.

“Good evening, Thor.”

“I wish to see the Hawk!” Thor booms, because he always booms. Instead of his usual attire, he's wearing a pair of jeans and a tight t-shirt. Phil smells Pepper's – or possibly Tony's – fashion sense all over him.

“He's just inside,” Phil says.

“Ah, very good! I am afraid our copulation was a hair too vigorous for your archer, although the lovely Lady Romanoff assures me he does indeed 'like it rough'.” Thor even does the air quotes.

Phil forces himself to keep his smile bland, instead of hiding his face behind his hands and groan. “I will see you later, Thor,” he manages and – after another painful pat on the back – walks away. If his steps are hurried, so be it. He has an urgent appointment with the bottle of Jim Beam in Nick's office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pics: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/62724030470) & [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/63174707142)


	6. Bucky/Maria

Maria wakes up at a not-quite-sound coming from her kitchen. She's got her gun in hand before she's out of bed, sneaking out of her bedroom and along the hallway only wearing her huge-sized nightshirt. She hears the fridge door open and sees the accompanying stream of light in the kitchen doorway.

She steps into the room, gun trained on the intruder, and purses her lips.

“Hey, man, you're outta milk,” Bucky says and puts down a recently-quarter-full carton of milk down on her counter.

Maria does not put down her gun, because she is getting _so damn tired of this_. “How the hell do you keep getting into my apartment?”

Bucky shrugs, all lean lines and carefree attitude. Maria dreads the day Tony gets over his Steve-centered jealous streak and starts getting along with the newest member of the Avengers. “Assassin, remember?”

Maria hasn't forgotten. She also thought she had proofed her apartment well enough this time. Perhaps Bucky's picking up tricks from Romanov. “Get the hell out, Barnes.”

Bucky gives her what he probably believes is a winning smile. “But you're my handler, Ma'am. It's in your job description.”

Maria puts on the safety just so she can cock her gun again. “I suggest you get out of here before I shoot you in the ass, and look up the term 'handler' in the SHIELD welcoming manual.” She arches an eyebrow. “Feel free to also look up the term 'nanny' or 'babysitter' in the dictionary and contemplate how the latter differ from a handler.”

Bucky laughs and sways his hips when he walks past her, towards the living room window. “You remind me of a gal Steve once courted, Ma'am.” He grins. “Probably why I like you so much.”

“Good _night_ , Agent Barnes,” Maria snaps, and her stomach does not at all tumble at the affectionate mention of Peggy Carter. There is no way he knows that Agent Carter was Maria's big hero when she was a child, much like Coulson's fascination with Captain America.

“Sleep tight, Ma'am,” Bucky says and winks before disappearing out the seventeenth-story window.

She considers booby-trapping it, but ends up going back to sleep. If she doesn't lock it, well. That's just a slip of her mind, not an invitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/64425402391)


	7. Natasha/Rhodey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is also based on a prompt from[Avengerkink](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/17613.html?thread=40937677#t40937677) by [arwen_lune](http://livejournal.com/users/arwen_lune).

“I saw that,” Clint chirps, and Natasha glares at him instead of taking him down.

“Saw what?” she says archly and continues stretching. Clint sits down next to her.

“You. Rhodes. Googly-eyes.”

She doesn't dignify it with an answer, but her thoughts stray – as they do much, much too often these days – to the man inside the Iron Patriot armor. The only person, aside from Phil and occasionally Bruce, who can make Tony shut up without resorting to physical violence. The man whose first name and eyes are so similar to another man, another agent, she knew and loved decades ago.

“See? You're doing it again,” Clint says, gleeful.

“I'm doing nothing,” she says, a little stiffer than she wants to sound. She hates that Barton gets under her skin like this, and she loves him for it.

“You're in _loove_ ,” Clint sing-songs, pronouncing it 'luuurv'.

She rolls her eyes and does a handstand, just to get a different perspective. “Love is for children, Clint.”

“And yet,” Clint says with a bright grin.

_And yet._

She sighs, still upside down. “You know me, Clint. I have...”

“Too much red in your ledger?” Clint finishes and she doesn't nod. “Yeah, somehow I don't think Rhodes'll give a shit about that. He's Stark's best friend – clearly he has terrible taste.” The words are too fond; Clint has a soft spot for their resident billionaire and he knows it.

Natasha lets herself fall to the mat and stares at the ceiling. “I loathe this,” she says and rubs at her stomach, which has begun tumbling each time she sees the Colonel. “How do I turn off the feelings?” It's only a half joke.

Clint puts his jaw on her shoulder and grins. “Vodka?”

She closes her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. “I'm not used to being in love,” she says softly.

“Well, neither am I,” says Rhodes, _James_ , and Natasha spins to her feet. He stands in the doorway, a sheepish smile on his face, clad in his uniform with warm eyes on hers. “I wouldn't be averse to giving it a shot, though, if you'd let me,” he adds softly.

Natasha looks up at the nearest vent. “I will kill you for this, Barton,” she says.

“No, you won't,” Clint says, out of sight. “But I'll meet up with you here tomorrow so you can kick my ass for meddling – I deserve that.”

“I'll hold you to it,” she says coolly, hears Clint snicker from the vent, and turns to Rhodes. “Colonel,” she says and inclines her head, because she feels strangely out of her depth.

Rhodes nods back at her. “Miss Romanoff, would you like to take me to dinner some day? I would be honored,” he says, his smile almost reminiscent of Stark's.

She can't help but smirk at the phrasing. “Call me Natasha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/55263275416)


	8. Phil/Tony

“Romanoff, do you have you eye on him?” Phil says. The party – if a charity ball like this can be called a party – seems to be breaking up, even if it's far from midnight yet.

“Confirmed.”

Phil sees her across the room, walking faux-randomly towards Tony. He lists to one side, eyes half-open, but the grip on his whisky glass is steady.

“Permission to extract?” Natasha murmurs.

“Permission granted.”

Natasha sidles up to Tony. “Mister Stark, would you like to take a stroll outside for a moment?” Her voice is kind, but calm. Forgettable. She smiles at the people who surround Tony and tugs him lightly towards her.

“N- Romanoff?” Tony slurs, but nods. Phil watches them go, Tony coming along with less fuss than both Phil and Natasha anticipated. He has been doing well this party, so far. The guests are used to a drunken Tony Stark wandering around, and he has yet to do something that will damage his or Stark Industries' reputation (further).

Best not to take any more chances.

Phil finds them in the nearby bathroom, Tony sitting on the toilet lid and leaning his head against the wall. He looks half-asleep, but frowns at Phil when he sees him. “Y'r not gonna yell, are you, Agent-Agent?”

“No,” Phil says and smiles. Natasha stands in front of a mirror and checks her dress, or more correctly, the dozen knives she has concealed in it. “No, you did fine, Stark.”

“Then how come y're mad?” Tony says and staggers to his feet, jutting his jaw out defensively. Phil can't fully tell if Tony is trying to seem threatening and failing because he's drunk, or if he's deliberately trying to look comical.

“I'm not mad, Stark,” Phil says and doesn't frown.

“Then why didn't you reply to my text?” Tony says. Natasha glances between them, a glint in her eyes.

Phil doesn't sigh either. “I assumed you sent it while inebriated, and elected not to pay it any mind,” he says, willing his voice to be bland.

“Course I was drunk, 'm always drunk,” Tony says and rolls his eyes so hard he loses his balance. Phil, who is closest, catches him to keep him upright. “Doesn't mean I didn't _mean_ it, Agent-Agent.”

“I don't see how your message was necessitous of a response,” he says stiffly. He's glad he seldom blushes.

“We're friends!” Tony says, still leaning against Phil's chest. “And when I drunkenly send you a picture of my left testicle,” Tony continues decisively, “I would appreciate a response.” His eyes flicker down to Phil's lips.

He can hear Natasha chortling even though he doesn't look towards her.

“I will take that into further consideration,” Phil says.

Tony grins and gives him a sloppy kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/61645708758)


	9. Darcy & Fury

Darcy looks up from her desk, and there's a pirate standing in her office. (Well, technically it's Phil's office, but since she's his _official assistant_ since two days ago and this tiny room is outside Phil's main office, Darcy labels it 'her' office.)

She has heard a lot about Director Fury, the guy who runs this not-quite-so-secret organization she's now working for, but she hasn't actually seen him until today. She assumed the rumours about a full leather outfit and an eye patch where either to scare off newbies or blatant exaggeration – clearly, she was all kinds of wrong.

“Is Coulson in?” Terrying-Guy-Who-Must-Be-Fury asks and glances at the closed door into Agent Coulson's office.

He is, and Darcy fully plans to tell him that, except what she kind of says instead is “You're a pirate!”

Fury stares at her for a moment, and Darcy wills herself not to hide under her desk. She sneaks a hand into her pocket to grip her taser tightly, though, just in case.

“Not by today's standards, miss Lewis,” he eventually says.

 _You remember my name,_ Darcy says, except what she _actually_ says is “But do you have a pirate flag? Sir,” she adds, when she remembers that awkward questions or no, the guy's technically her boss. Or her boss's boss.

Fury arches the eyebrow over the one eye not covered by the black patch. Darcy wonders what exactly it hides – if he has an eye and it's just not working, or if there's a hole where it should be, or a mess of scars like the one she's accidentally seen on Phil's chest when she walked into his office one day without knocking – “Of course I have a pirate flag,” Fury says.

Darcy blinks. Then she grins. “ _Awesome_.”

Fury doesn't roll his eyes, but she feels like he's doing it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insipiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/63477165464)


	10. Clint/Steve

Natasha sees Clint walk into the living room, aiming for the unoccupied couch, when Steve brightens and walks over to him.

“Clint, hey! I was just coming over to –” Steve rubs his neck and gives Clint his 'aw, shucks' smile. Natasha is still fairly certain he doesn't know he is doing it. “Anyway, I drew this, and I've been experimenting with watercolors so it's not the best, but it's you with your bow and I thought...” he trails off, shrugging, and hands Clint a paper.

Clint takes it, stares at it, makes a choked sound, and high-tails out of there. Steve is left looking forlornly at the door.

Natasha rolls her eyes and finds Clint in his room.

“I'm doomed, Tasha, I'm so fucking doomed,” he groans into the Iron Man pillow that Stark gave him. Natasha notes that the painting lies on the bedside table, corners not even crinkled.

“Go on,” she says, smirking, because Barton in love is always an amusing sight.

“He's hot, a Cancer, an artist and a perfect cook,” Clint says into the pillow, before turning to stare at her with big eyes that beg for pity and a back rub. “I think my bi train just arrived in gay town.”

“How does it feel?” she says.

“I'm dying, Tasha,” Clint whispers and hides his face against her thigh.

“Ten bucks he'll be thrilled to go out with you if you ask him,” Natasha says, remembering how rejected Steve looked when Clint ran.

Clint's head snaps up. “Really?” She's almost always spot-on and he knows it.

She grins. “Really.”

He thinks for another moment. “I need to go,” he says and bounces off the bed. Natasha goes back to her own quarters, humming under her breath.

~

Two weeks later, she wakes up when Clint drops down from the ceiling vent in her bedroom. He's only wearing scruffy jeans, his chest is riddled with bite marks, and he looks both debauched and starstruck. He hands her a ten-dollar note.

“You're welcome,” Natasha says and takes it.

“We fucked twice,” Clint says and drops ceremoniously down onto her bed. At least he's showered. “I went to the bathroom to freshen up, and came back to him playing 'Your Body is a Wonderland' on my guitar naked in his bed.” He looks so happy he could cry.

“I didn't tell him it's your favorite,” she says because of course she did, and Clint knows that.

“You know what this mean, don't you?” Clint says and she nods.

“You're gonna marry-”

“I'm gonna marry that man.” Clint smiles wide enough that it must hurt.

“As long as I'm the best man,” Natasha says and goes back to sleep, Clint a warm ball of gratitude next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pics: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/61523014200) & [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/62251684888)


	11. Bruce/Pepper/Tony

Bruce absolutely does not stare at Pepper as she toes off her gorgeous, high-heeled shoes and wriggles her toes into the lush carpet of Tony's apartment. Bruce comes here often enough that Pepper doesn't look surprised any more – she probably sees him as part of the furniture here.

Not that he thinks Pepper would think of him as an object. She reminds him of Betty, actually: from the moment Tony introduced Bruce to his girlfriend as 'my new BFF and science-bro', Pepper has been nothing but nice to Bruce. And he loves it, he really does. He loves Pepper and Tony's company as much as he loves having a regular place to live, sleep, and eat. But her kindness towards him – and the way she and Tony are together – reminds Bruce painfully that there's another part of his life that the Other Guy is still keeping him from.

Not directly, though. The Other Guy has quite literally told him to “go find nice girl or boy”, because he's sick of Bruce's maudlin thoughts of loneliness. But he can't. He won't rip up Betty's life again, and the other two people he is in love with are both... out of reach.

Pepper sighs and adjusts her skirt. She hasn't picked up her StarkTablet, so presumably it's after-work hours for her, by now. Bruce doesn't actually know where Tony is – he usually stays in Tony's apartment or workshop even when the genius isn't around. It calms him.

“Bruce, I have a problem,” Pepper says.

He quirks a smile. “Does that problem have a name spelled t-o-n-y?”

She snorts and flexes her (very pretty) legs. “Would you believe it if I said no?”

“Try me,” he says and sits down next to her.

“There is a guy who I like, very much,” Pepper says. She folds her hands and looks down at them. “So does Tony, so I'm not talking about infedelity, Bruce.”

“I didn't think you did,” Bruce says slowly.

“We've been friends for a while, Bruce. And Tony and I have a sort of...” Pepper gestures with one hand, “arrangement, I guess.”

Bruce's collar feels hot. “Go on.”

Pepper smiles wryly and looks at him, a lock of golden-red hair falling into her eyes. “We're just not sure how to initiate the 'do you want to have sex with my boyfriend and I' conversation.”

Bruce is quiet for a moment before he realizes that Pepper is staring at him. Oh. _Oh._ “Well... Maybe you could, um, kiss him first?” he says faintly. “As a sign?”

Pepper puts her hand on his knee and kisses him. Her lips are just as soft as Bruce thought they would be. “Hey, Bruce...”

“Yes,” Bruce blurts. “Yes, absolutely.”

Pepper has the prettiest laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/61554443607)


	12. Jane/Phil (/Darcy)

“Miss Lewis, I think you have a visitor,” Phil says when he comes back from the cafeteria, his usual cup of coffee and powdered doughnut in hand. (Darcy keeps trying to get his coffee, since she's basically his PA, but Phil only says vague things about 'Stark would never let me live it down' and tells her he's got it covered.)

Behind him is a shock of brown hair that tells her Jane hasn't been sleeping again. “Jane!” Darcy squeaks and gets up so she can hug the shit out of her ex-boss-but-still-best-bud. Phil looks amused by the display, especially when Jane squeaks and hugs right back, and then he disappears into his office to leave them alone.

“Are you coming just to visit me?” Darcy says and makes her lip wobble. “Aw, _shucks_ , Janey.”

Jane rolls her eyes. “I'm staying at Thor's for a while. I'm doing Dr. Banner a favor.”

“Wait, at Stark Tower?” Darcy pouts. “You get to ogle the Avengers on a daily basis now, while I'm stuck at SHIELD? Why does life hate me?”

Jane laughs and winks. “What, like you don't have any eye candy.”

Darcy frowns, before she looks over at Phil's closed door. “Coulson? Really?” She grins. To her, Phil has become... well, _Phil_ by now, but it's not like she hasn't noticed that the guy's attractive – in a strangely bland, warm way.

Maybe she just needs to get laid.

“He's cute!” Jane argues, her cheeks tinting. “Not in a 'I want to rip his clothes off' way, though. More of a... 'put him in my pocket and keep him as a pet' way?” She sits down on Darcy's desk and dangles her legs a little while Darcy laughs.

“Right,” she says and pulls down her glasses to give Jane her best smoldering look. “And occasionally lick cream off him?”

Jane hides her grin behind the curtain of her hair, her eyes twinkling. “Exactly.”

Darcy cackles. “I missed you, crazy scientist lady.”

“Yeah,” Jane says. “It's good to be here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/59608564287)


	13. Bruce/Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am getting entirely too many new ships from doing this project. Goddammit.

Bucky's not in his room. Or Steve's room. Or... any room he recognizes in the tower, actually. He's lying on a comfy couch full of Hulk pillows. He rolls to his side and sees Banner walk in, a cup of steaming _something_ in his hands.

“Good afternoon,” Bruce says and hands it to him. “I wasn't sure what you would like, so I went with Earl Grey.”

“Mmm, close enough,” Bucky says and gathers himself up to take a gulp. The tea scalds his tongue. “How come I'm at your place? I'm sure Stevie could'a carried me to my room if I was that gone. Which, considering last night's a big old blank, I probably was.”

Bruce chuckles and sits down on the far side of the couch, placing one of the Hulk pillows in his lap. “You seemed adamant to sleep here.”

Dang, Bucky always gets too damn chatty when he's drunk. Worse than Stevie, who just gets cuddly. “Right. Anything particular I should know, since Clint'n Tony are bound to never let me live _anything_ down?”

“Well,” Bruce says and takes his glasses off to clean them. “First, you challenged Natasha to an arm wrestle for a bottle of her vodka.”

“Sweet,” Bucky chuckles and runs a hand through her floppy hair. “Did I win?”

“You're hungover, aren't you?” Bruce puts his glasses back on while Bucky laughs. “You also shouted _'look, I'm Hawkeye!_ ' and hit Clint with a dildo from across the room.” Bruce makes this oddly sweet giggle sound. “He vowed to get revenge.”

Bucky hides his face in his hands. “Where'd I even get the dildo from? Christ.”

“No one knows.” Bruce holds the Hulk pillow like a teddy. “You said it was your superpower.”

Bucky takes a long slurp, just waiting for Banner's chuckle to die down. “That's it, right, doc? Tell me that's it.”

“Well...” Bruce's cheeks tint when Bucky looks at him. “Yes. Yeah, that's, uh, everything.”

Bucky squints at him and Bruce's eyes flicker. “Liar liar, pants on fire.”

“It's nothing,” Bruce assures him. “You just, you kissed me, is all.”

Bucky stares. “I kissed you.”

“It's fine,” Bruce says quickly. “It... happens.”

“Not usually with me,” Bucky says. “Doc, I'm real sorry, that was – unprofessional as hell. Did Stevie punch me for that? 'Cause he should've.”

“No, he...” Bruce smiles a little. “He seemed pleased, actually.”

“He – really?”

Bruce nods.

“Huh,” Bucky says. Neither of them stop staring at each other, although they probably should. “Can't say I know why.”

Bruce's smile falters, and some of the tiny smile wrinkles near his eyes disappear. Bucky... doesn't like that. He prefers the smile wrinkles – the doc's got too many worry wrinkles from that life of his on the run.

Bucky knows a lot about running. “Mighty curious to find out, though.”

Bruce beams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pics: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/post/59015608860)  
> & [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/59906462873).


	14. Pepper/Tony

“Pep! Pep, Pepper, you gotta come see this, c'mon, c'mon!”

Pepper puts down the list of urgently marked forms that Tony needs to sign, because she knows he won't pay attention until he's shown her whatever new, possibly-catastrophical invention he has come up with. She lets him drag her over to his hologram screens before he blows six different map layouts up in front of them both.

Pepper gives them all a cursory glance and notes that they look like layouts of floors in the Tower – personalised ones, given the minor details and differences – and each of them marked with a logo in the right-hand corner. Tony bounces next to her, gives her time to see, and that's when Pepper notices that one of the logos is Captain America's shield.

“Tony,” she says and looks at him. “Are these – rooms for the other Avengers in this tower?”

“Not just rooms, Pep!” Tony chirrups, and starts to show her all the minute details of his designs. “I'm giving them an entire _floor_ each, because seriously, not even _I_ need over sixty floors to myself, and look, look at it, look, I'm reinforcing this bit here so Bruce can Hulk out without smashing the whole place to bits again, and I'm giving Barton a range, and we'll have a common room up top, and-” he rambles on as usual, and she listens with a bemused smile.

“Tony,” she says when he stops to breathe after a minute or so, “ _why_ exactly are you designing an Avengers Tower?”

“Not Avengers!” Tony says and points an accusing finger at her. “Still my tower, Pep, I don't care if only the 'A' is left from Loki's attack. _My_ tower. And I'm getting it so that they can stay around, of course.”

Pepper doesn't say anything about that little Freudian slip. Tony corrects himself almost immediately, pointing out that the team shouldn't have to stay at SHIELD all the time, that Steve, Bruce and Thor don't even have a proper place to live and Natasha and Clint only stay in the SHIELD barracks. He goes off on a tangent about teamwork and 'Bruce's idea', but Pepper hears what lies underneath it: that already, after one fight, Tony cares about his team. And he wants them to stay.

She sighs and straddles him on his chair. He lets her, mouth quirking up in a surprised smile, and puts his hands on her waist. She doesn't say anything, just looks at him, and he scrunches his nose in a sheepish grimace.

“Are you doing that thing where you're convinced I made a terrible decision?” he asks, not quite sulking.

Pepper chuckles. “Daily,” she says and kisses him. She hopes the rest of Tony's team will take his sign of trust as the rare gift it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/63045696234)


	15. Maria/Thor ( & Phil )

Maria Hill rarely looks less than impeccable, whether on duty or not.

This, Phil muses, is one of those rare occasions. “Good morning, Agent Hill.”

“Not a word, Coulson,” Maria says with an accusing finger his way, as she tries to tie her hair into a slightly less dishevelled bun. Phil doesn't know who is in Maria's quarters at the moment, but he's sure there is _someone_. Possibly several someones.

It has been a while, but Phil once used to be one of those someones. He recognizes the pink hue in Maria's cheeks, the way she holds herself, the way the lines around her eyes have relaxed minutely.

“I'm very happy for you, I'm sure,” Phil says blandly, though they both know he's laughing inside. “Would you happen to know where my computer chair is?”

“Ah, good morning, Son of Coul!” a voice booms behind them, and Phil arches an eyebrow at Maria. Maria, foregoing a verbal response, actually hides her face in her hand.

“Good morning, Thor,” Phil says and turns to the half-naked demi-god beaming down at him. “This is starting to become a habit, I feel.”

Thor laughs and pats him on the back, hard enough to almost knock the breath out of him. “The Lady Maria is like a flesh-eating _Smørblomst_ ; you are truly lucky to have her as an agent of yore.” He grins, bows to Maria, whose cheeks are a flaming red now, and leaves them to it.

“I think,” Phil says, “that he was talking about a flower. Possibly.” He looks at her.

“He has blue eyes of sex and I am powerless against them,” Maria snaps, folding her arms across her stomach. Her eyes dare him to argue, and since Phil has known her long enough to know how unpleasant Maria could make his life, he doesn't.

“That doesn't tell me where my computer chair went, but good to know,” he says blandly.

“Ugh,” Maria says and pushes at a stray bang.

“Coffee?” Phil says, extending his own olive branch.

A wry smile appears on her face. “Yes, please.”

They walk together in mostly silence, junior agents giving them a wide berth. Maria has a way of seeming always busy, and anyone who approaches her do so at their own risk. Phil has always admired that.

“I can't believe he called me a flesh-eating flower,” Maria mutters into her espresso later.

Phil clamps down on his giggle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/63143009027)


	16. Darcy/Jane/Maria/Natasha/Pepper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I won't have internet between December 22nd and 25th, I'll post two chapters on those two days to make up for 23rd and 24th ;)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who gives kudos and posts comments! I appreciate it a lot <3

Jane falls over – or rather, she lists to her side until she slides down onto the mess of pillows on the floor. Darcy disappeared behind the couch some time ago, Pepper thinks she's fallen asleep. She _knows_ Maria and Natasha have had twice as much to drink as the rest of them, and yet they still look annoyingly put-together and tipsy. Jane giggles and Pepper giggles with her, although she doesn't know why.

Girls Night In in Tony's tower is the favorite part of Pepper's week.

“I've found my spirit animal,” Jane slurs and looks up at the three of them. Somehow she is still hanging onto her margarita, balancing it precariously in her tiny, calloused hands. Maria leans forward and snatches it away from her before it can fall, and Jane makes a disgruntled noise.

Natasha, who's currently lying on her back with her head in Pepper's lap, chuckles. “Tell us about your spirit animal, Janie.” Pepper keeps stroking Natasha's hair, silently baffled that the assassin lets her. Even if the Avengers have lived in Tony's tower for a year now, Girl's Night In has only been happening for the last two months. Even so, they all somehow manage to always attend, despite their insane schedules.

Jane worms over to Maria so she can flop into her embrace. Maria laughs. “I'm a Snapple bottle,” Jane says, dead serious. Maria holds her upright and Jane pokes their noses together. “If you take my top off, I'll tell you a fact about science.”

Pepper bursts into laughter, and they all hear Darcy's drunken sniggering from behind the couch. Maria's eyes have darkened slightly and her hand is splayed across Jane's back, underneath her top.

“Is that a fact, doc?” Maria murmurs.

Jane shakes her head. “Nope. Top's still on.”

“Well,” Natasha says, “now I'm curious about science.”

Pepper hums her agreement and Darcy crawls out from underneath the couch. “Teach us, oh Snapple Jane,” she slurs.

Jane does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/59366241415)


	17. Clint/Fury/Phil

“Barton,” Fury says calmly, “what the fuck did you do?”

“What makes you think I had anything to do with it, sir?” Clint says. Between them in the tower hallway, propped up against Clint's legs, is a sleeping Philip Coulson.

“This whole deal stinks of you and Stark,” Fury says.

“Actually, that stink would be Thor's mead,” Clint says and picks Phil back up. His handler's pretty heavy, but Clint's used to dragging bodies around. “Also, you shouldn't talk to Thor. Everything he'd tell you is a lie – especially the story about the Finnish racing driver and the flaming absinthe shots.”

“Just get the man to bed, Agent.”

“Yessir.” JARVIS opens the door to Phil's suite and Clint carries him through, placing him on the bed. He knows Phil hates sleeping in his suit, and they've been friends and colleagues long enough that Clint knows Phil won't mind this. He starts unbuttoning Phil's shirt and looks at Fury.

“You don't actually have to be here for this, Sir. I promise Agent Coulson'll still have his virtue in the morning.”

Fury's mouth turns upwards at the corners. “I'm sticking around, Agent.” Fury's protective streak for Coulson is a well-kept SHIELD secret, so obviously Clint knows about it. Since Coulson got out of the hospital after Loki's attack, Fury's been even more of a guard dog, coming around to the tower, visiting Phil in his apartment. Clint has watched them through the vents; seems Coulson can make even the director of SHIELD watch Supernanny.

Clint shrugs and pulls off Phil's jacket. Phil murmurs something in his sleep. “Sure thing, boss,” Clint says and unbuttons his shirt. Fury watches from the corner.

“You could just join the Avengers' drinking nights, you know,” Clint says and glances at Fury. “You might even enjoy it – Phil seems to.”

“Coulson has terrible taste in entertainment,” Fury says and Clint grins.

“Can't argue with that, sir.” He pushes Phil's shirt off his shoulders. “If you're gonna stand there, might as well help out. Sir.”

Fury hesitates before he walks over to Phil's bed, sitting down and pulling off Phil's shoes. He's wearing his leather coat as always, but Clint thinks he looks strangely... domestic like this, taking care of Phil.

“You married, sir?”

“Bonding time, Barton, really?” He pulls off Phil's socks as Clint starts on the belt. Phil mutters something and turns over on his side.

“Almost done, sir,” Clint murmurs to Phil, who makes a soft noise.

Fury watches them both. “No,” he says when Clint looks back at him. “Never married.”

Phil burrows his face against Clint's jeans.

“Too busy, sir?”

Fury pulls off Phil's pants. They tuck him in together. “Something like it,” Fury says quietly.

Phil makes a snuffling noise and smiles in his sleep. Clint knows they're both watching Phil's chest move. Making sure it keeps on... keeping on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/56251766563)


	18. Bucky/Rhodey

“This is bad,” Rhodey mutters into the palm of his hand. “This is very, very bad.” He doesn't dare to take his hand away. Everything smells like pine and dirt, there are sticks and branches poking into his skin, and he's naked.

This time he can't even blame Tony.

“See, I dunno.” Bucky's voice comes from his left, there's rustling, and then there's a warm (and equally bare) body covering his own. “For decently drunk, in the woods, last-person-I-should-be-hooking-up-with sex, I thought it was pretty swell.”

Rhodey isn't cold, per se, but the warmth from Bucky's body is more comfortable than, well, he is comfortable with. Rhodey finally takes his hand away from his face. “How did this even _happen_?”

“Mead,” Bucky says and peers down at him. He's got a black eye (that Rhodey hopes to God he didn't give him, because Steve would kick his ass), a split lip (that Rhodey _knows_ he gave him, and shit, Steve is going to kick his ass), and a shit-eating grin (that never left) that causes his split lip to start bleeding again. “It's always the mead, eh, Rhodes?”

Rhodey makes a small sound and contemplates hiding under the branch he's lying on. Instead he swipes his thumb over Bucky's lip to clean away the blood. “Did I... I don't remember everything.”

Bucky grins, arms on either side of Rhodey's shoulders. They should really get some clothes on, Rhodey thinks absently. “This?” Bucky pokes at his eye. “Not you. This?” the split lip, “ _definitely_ you.”

“I'm sorry,” Rhodey says, only just biting back the 'Sergeant'.

Bucky leans down and kisses him hard. He tastes like mead, sleep, and blood. It's more intoxicating and familiar than Rhodey likes, and he kisses back until they're both breathless.

“Talked to Stevie and Tony,” Bucky says when he pulls back, a string of saliva stretching between their mouths until it snaps. “Told him where we are. Tony said to call when we wanna come back home.”

“Where are we?” Rhodey looks around.

Bucky shrugs. “Hell if I know. My phone has a GPS, Tony's tracking us.” He lies down, his head on Rhodey's chest, and rakes his fingers through the sparse hair there.

Rhodey tells his erection that this is _not the time_. “We should... talk about this.”

“Mmm,” Bucky says and trails Rhodey's nipple with his fingernail. It makes Rhodey shiver. “Probably should, Colonel.”

Rhodey's hands are on Bucky's ass before he knows it and Bucky makes an appreciative noise. “Really,” he says, a little breathless. “We need to – discuss this.”

“Absofuckinglutely,” Bucky says and grinds his hips down.

“Good,” Rhodey mumbles, one of his fingers slipping between the globes of Bucky's ass, eliciting a small noise from the other man. “So we're... talking.”

“Oh, shut the hell up, Rhodes,” Bucky groans and bites Rhodey's nipple.

Rhodey obliges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/62896814849)


	19. Bruce/Clint/Darcy/Jane

Clint looks that particular brand of haggard and pale that he does mornings after a Loki-related nightmare, and Bruce puts his hand on the archer's shoulder, giving him a choice. Sometimes Clint wants physical touch, sometimes he doesn't.

Jane watches them both with a frown that lets them know she's concerned, but doesn't say anything. Darcy, for once, doesn't speak up from where she perches on Jane's lap.

As it turns out, this is not one of the days Clint yearns for personal space. He leans into Bruce, who slips his hands around him and holds him loosely. Clint sighs and, instead of saying good morning (because it clearly isn't one), just says: “Ugh.”

“Do you want some tea, Clint?” Jane says with that sad smile of hers. Darcy peers at them over her rimmed glasses.

“Sure,” Clint mumbles, and Jane ruffles his hair affectionately on her way to the kitchen counter.

“You look like shit,” Darcy says, which is her way of showing that she cares. Bruce tightens his hold by a fraction and Clint lets out a broken, little laugh.

“This day sucks, Darce. I just wanna play ostrich and bury my head in your boobs.” He frowns. “Not that I don't always wanna do that, but... yeah.”

Darcy snorts, and Bruce and Jane both chuckle. “See, that is great,” Darcy says and walks up to them, “because that gives me something to do that I can't fuck up.”

“You don't fuck up,” Jane murmurs, putting two mugs of steaming tea down on the table before adding to their hugging pile. Darcy's wearing one of Clint's t-shirts, Jane's wearing one of Bruce's shirts, and she kisses Clint before guiding them over to the couch they usually cuddle on. When they're all seated, Clint in the middle, Darcy slips off her t-shirt and guides Clint down. Clint goes willingly, because his wishes are literal more often than they're not, and hides his face against Darcy's breasts. He doesn't do anything, just clings to her middle and breathes. Bruce can't see his expression, but he thinks Clint listens to her steady heartbeat.

Jane straddles Bruce's lap, who sits next to Clint, and leans in for a hug of her own. Bruce kisses her forehead and she smiles, still sad. They are used to Clint's nightmares by now, and they all have their own – to varying degrees. This is just another morning.

Clint sighs and some of the tension goes out in his shoulders. “There you go,” Darcy says and grins at the two others. “I always knew my boobs were my greatest assets.”

Clint chuckles quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/64330603264)


	20. Bruce/Natasha/Pepper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all had a lovely Christmas! <3

“Natasha?” Pepper pokes her head into Bruce's lab and sees a familiar bush of red hair.

“Yes, Pep?” Natasha's curled up with Bruce today, on his couch, one of Bruce's hands around her waist while the other is flicking through a magazine. He looks relaxed, but Natasha looks _content_ , opening her eyes to look at Pepper like a lazy cat.

Pepper loves this version of Natasha even more than she loves all the other versions of her. “Did you somehow convince Tony to not only disable the suicide locks on his Iron Man suits, but also get him to eat a sandwich and go to bed before midnight?”

Natasha stretches like the feline she is, and nudges the tip of her nose against Bruce's jaw. “I did.”

Pepper sinks back against the wall, lets her relief be seen by anyone who cares to look. “Thank God.”

Natasha hums and Bruce kisses the top of her head. Sometimes Natasha seems allergic to touches; she will hide away in the vents Clint loves so much and stay there until it passes or the Avengers are called upon. Other times, though, she seems as touch-starved as any of the other Avengers, and since moving into the Tower a year ago, she has learned to approach them when she needs a cuddle. It makes Pepper so happy to see her like this, especially because of the busy lives both of them wield. Pepper and Natasha could never be all the other needed, and like this, they don't have to be.

“I feel like words won't express my appreciation properly,” Pepper says, “so at some point I'll just bring you pizza, then go down on your for an hour. Is that fair?”

Natasha laughs, smooth and rough at the same time, eyes closing for a moment. Behind her, Bruce's cheeks flame up. He's studiously not watching them, only looking at his magazine, though Pepper knows he hasn't flipped a page since she walked in.

“Only if I can bring guests to my own party,” Natasha says with a wry smile that Pepper matches. Natasha's hand trails Bruce's muscled arm and he finally looks up, a little unsure and a lot hopeful.

“It's your party, after all,” Pepper says. “Everyone who wants should get to play.”

Natasha turns over smoothly to kiss Bruce, whose cheeks redden again. He smiles at Pepper through the kiss, though, and she winks before leaving them to it.

She still has a company to run, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/64898717780)


	21. Hulk & Tony

“I'm telling you, he was jealous of me,” Tony says, waving his Martini glass around for emphasis. “ _And_ threatened by me. And I'm like, just 'cause I could fuck your girlfriend doesn't mean I'm going to! You know?” He peers drunkenly at his companion, who nods in understanding. Tony makes a disgusted noise at all this everything and scoots further down into the plush couch.

He doesn't spill a drop. A life of alcoholism has taught Tony many things. Giving spectacular head is one of them, sitting through board meetings with a raging hangover is another. Not spilling his drink, like, _ever_ just seems to have come naturally. He probably got it genetically from his father – wait, actually, both his parents.

Anyway. “She's not even my type,” Tony grouses and empties his glass, before waving it more to get a refill. He does, because he's awesome. “She doesn't even have a _penis_ ,” he enunciates, because this is a very important point that is important. “ _Or_ an anger management problem. Clearly, she's not for me.”

He gets a grunt in return at that, which Tony takes as agreement.

He puts down his now-full glass and sort of throws himself onto his friend. “You're the best listener, you know that? Best friend and listener. Very best.”

“Thank you,” Hulk says gruffly and pats him on the head. He's careful about it, so instead of knocking Tony unconscious like it _could_ , it mostly rocks him to sleep instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/64115327430)


	22. Clint/Phil/Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this once-a-day thing is a lot more difficult than I'd presumed in the middle of Christmas and New Year's. I'll just have to post sporadically for a week, I think, because I don't have time to sit down and write _anything_ right now. (On a separate note, _why does my brain want me to write an Avengers/Mass Effect fusion, dear GOD._ )
> 
> And with that, I give you one of my definite favourite pairings, and I wish you a Happy New Year! <3

“Steve,” Clint says and takes him by the hand. “I'm so glad you came.”

Steve's a quiet guy like this, even more so than Phil. Steve only ducks his head and follows, into the bedroom where Phil's already waiting. Clint presses a hand against Steve's back as he guides him. They're all dressed, but Clint's the only one who'll stay that way.

Steve looks as nervous as Clint knows Phil is, but equally excited, too. Clint is the luckiest guy in the universe.

“You look gorgeous,” he murmurs. “You both do.”

Phil and Steve look at each other, standing close with Clint on their side. Phil's nerves show by his rosy cheeks; Steve's with the twitching fingers by his side. They're close enough to touch, but don't – not yet.

Clint holds Steve's chin; draws him in for a light kiss before he kisses Phil, too. “Get to know each other,” he says quietly, and the two hesitate. Then Phil leans forward and captures Steve's lips with his own, Steve's eyes sliding shut. His fingers twitch again.

“It's okay to touch,” Clint murmurs into Steve's ear. Slowly, Steve puts his hands on Phil's hips, under the white shirt. They're still kissing, and Phil makes a low, surprised sound into Steve's mouth.

“Hey, Phil,” Clint whispers into his husband's ear, “How does it feel to know you're about to get fucked by Captain Steve Rogers?”

This time, the sounds come from both of them, and Clint chuckles. Phil's hands land on Steve's ass, which was about time, really. Steve's ass is the reason Clint still believes in a higher power.

“Phil loves getting gentle bites on the neck, Steve. And Phil? Steve's ear lobes are really sensitive.” They oblige, eager and so quiet. They're both exploring each other now, with hands and mouths and shy looks, and Clint steps back to give them space to find each other.

He always sees best from a distance, anyway.

Clint sits down in the plush chair in the middle of the room and watches. He keeps a steady monologue as his husband and – well, boyfriend – slowly undress each other. Clint lays off the dirty talk, because it's not Steve's favourite; he just notes things they could do, should do, stuff he knows they like.

Phil's eyes are bright with wonder and Steve looks more comfortable in this century than ever. Clint loves them both for this – and for a hundred other things.

“This has been one of Phil's fantasies for the last – probably thirty years,” Clint says when they're down to boxers. “So you get why he's shivering right now, Cap. What Steve doesn't tell you though, Phil, is that he's just as nervous about you, the great Agent Coulson.” Clint grins when both men go pink. “See? You guys're made for each other.”

Both of them look over at him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Clint says softly and smiles. “And me, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration pic: [THIS](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/image/64309623520)


End file.
